Twelve Seconds
by breathingfiredragons
Summary: "It took him twelve seconds to realize what had happened, and when he did, he ran." In a gut wrenching twist of fate, it is Wanda who sacrifices herself for Clint, leaving Pietro alone to wonder what he could possibly do next.


A/N: I own nothing. All rights go to Marvel.

"I'm twelve minutes older than you," Pietro insisted, a small smile gracing his face. "I've got this," as if to prove his point, he moved faster than the eye could see, across the small building and blocking an Ultron. "Go with the others. Tell me when you're done, I will meet you."

Wanda looked at him uncertainly, before nodding and rushing towards him to hug him tightly. "Be careful, brother. I do not know what I would do without you."

Pietro laughed. "I am always careful," Wanda shook her head, smiling to herself, before darting across the island of rock climbing higher and higher into the heavens.

Pietro would never forget that moment. Never forget the smile that danced across her face, the way she brushed her hair back when she tilted her head down. Her eyes squinted, pressed together in the laugh. Her reassuring words, always worrying. He realized he never told her to be careful. When she hugged him tight, his hug was half hearted, he had wanted to fight again. She had whispered in his ear, telling him that she couldn't live without him, and he never said the same.

Wanda crushed the metal, taking her vengeance out on the monsters she had created. The blame that she had put on herself that nothing could take away. Every body, every death, every family torn apart was on her.

"Told you you'd make a good Avenger," pride shown through Clint's eye, while disappointment burned inside Wanda. She didn't deserve his pride. She created this.

"I am only cleaning up my mess," she promised.

The time flew on, both Wanda and Pietro barely noticing. Breaths going in and out, heaving, the sleep crawling at them. But they kept fighting. It was their mess, and they were so close.

Not a single Ultron made it past Pietro, moving so fast you could barely see him. His smug smile was alit upon his face as he took down one after another after another. _We are going to fix this_.

And then it happened.

The moment seemed to last forever, stretching until it snapped, somehow over before it had begun. The bullets were flying, raining down like hellfire, Clint looking up, sighing in defeat as he turned to protect himself and the child.

Wanda could see it from afar, her heart clenching as she runs, her eyes stinging as she recalled the _pride_ in his eyes. The pride for her. The faith. She let out a wordless cry, her hands outstretched as she created a field the surrounded Clint and the child. He barely had time to turn around, his mouth forming a silent ' _no_ ' when the hellfire struck.

For a moment, Wanda stood still, her hands trembling and body wavering. "I guess this makes me an Avenger," she smiled weakly before collapsing to the ground, her eyes unseeing.

Across the island, Pietro screamed.

It was gut wrenching, the sound of a wounded animal. He could feel it, something he'd never felt before. A pain so intense flashing across his mind before being replaced with a terrible coldness he'd never known. He'd always felt her presence, their connection. Her warmth inside his mind, like a hand holding his.

And it was gone.

In its wake was a loneliness he couldn't, wouldn't process. It took him 12 seconds to realize what had happened, and when he realized, he ran. Not to Wanda, as every cell in his body so desperately wanted to, but around, moving faster than he ever had before, to the point where everything was standing still. And then everything was broken. All of Ultron destroyed.

Except one.

"You knew what would happen if you defied me," Ultron's voice was cold, menacing. "And now your sister has paid the price."

With a guttural cry unlike any he'd ever known, he ripped open the metallic chest and tore him apart.

And then he sobbed.

His head down upon his hands, he sobbed like a ruined man. Pietro wanted to stay forever. He couldn't handle being alone. They'd never been alone. How was he supposed to manage this? Manage his life knowing that every day for the rest of his life he would be alone, without Wanda. That she was gone, dead, and he had helped create the monster that did it. She was gone forever, and it was his fault.

Forever.

That seemed a lot longer now.

But he couldn't leave her, not now. As much as Pietro wanted to stay behind one the home he had destroyed, lie down and never get back up, he knew that he couldn't leave her. He would never let her be buried by strangers. He would not let her leave this Earth alone.

Pietro stopped outside the floating road-something that would be humorous in any other given time-afraid to continue. Afraid of what he would see. Afraid of what he would do. He walked slowly, hesitantly onto where the survivors were, the grief stricken faces surrounding him. The sea moved around him, until he made it to the center, the eye of the storm where time seemed to come to a stand still. Clint was sitting, his elbows propped up on his knees and his face propped up on his hands. He looked up when he heard Pietro's dragging and stumbling footsteps heading towards him. Pietro held his gaze, afraid to look down, afraid of what he could see in his peripheral vision.

"Pietro," Clint took in a breath, standing up, then wiping his face with his hand. "I'm so sorry, she just-" Pietro's hand was trembling, his heart beating fast as he continued to refuse to look down, to make it real. "She was there before I realized and she-she saved my life. And the kid," he motions to a little boy huddled next to his mother. "She's a hero. And she knew that."

Clint remains standing for a brief second, then lowers himself down, finished with his piece. Pietro stood, silent for a brief moment, wanting to say something but not finding the ability to speak. He closed his eyes briefly, then nodded. "A hero," he almost laughed. "I think that she would have liked that."

Pietro bent down, finally looking at her and grasping her hand, that, while once full of life and energy and a pulsing excitement, was cold and empty. Somebody had closed her eyes for her. He almost could pretend that she was asleep. "Back with Hydra," Pietro spoke softly, his fingertips tracing hair out of her face. "They tested on her more than me. They said that she would be strong one day, stronger than I could imagine. She would come back from these tests…" Pietro paused, thinking of a word. "Drained, as if they had sucked the life right out of her. And she would come back, crying and tired…" Pietro forced himself to take a calming breath, fighting back tears that were threatening him. "And I promised that I would take care of her, always. That some day we would be heroes," all through this Clint was silent, his eyes unmoving on Wanda's still body. "I did a very bad job at the first part, didn't I?"

"Look, kid-" Clint started.

"But she got to be a hero," Pietro nodded, as if confirming this to himself. "At least she got that."

With that, he allowed himself to collapse onto his sister's broken, beaten, and bloody body, and sobbed.


End file.
